


Garden of Eden

by Askellie (NadaNine)



Series: SLAUE [17]
Category: Undertale (Video Game)
Genre: Bondage, Collars, Dubious Consent, Face-Sitting, M/M, Multi, Multiple Penetration, Orgasm Denial, Orgy, Rape/Non-con Elements, Sensory Deprivation, Sibling Incest, Soul Sex, Suspension, Tentacles
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-14
Updated: 2018-12-14
Packaged: 2019-09-18 03:00:18
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,985
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16986864
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NadaNine/pseuds/Askellie
Summary: Chara makes a complicated request, and it's (Swap) Pap's unfortunate job to make it happen.[The full skeleharem orgy, plus tentacles.]





	Garden of Eden

**Author's Note:**

> Content Warnings: Skeleharem Orgy [Swap!Pap/Sans/Red/Edge/Blue/Classic!Pap], group sex with various levels of consent, bondage (ropes and leather, some predicament bondage), collars, blindfolds, suspension, orgasm denial, ecto-sexy parts (male and female, and Classic Pap inherited Gaster’s tentadick c:), face-sitting, inadvertent incest (Red+Edge) lots of complicated set-up, TENTACLES, forced orgasms, orgasm denial, tears, multiple penetration, soul sex.

After some deliberation, Papyrus chooses Sans to go first. The small skeleton is easily the most patient member of the harem, and is less likely to complain during the extensive preparations Chara has demanded. Papyrus is sure he’ll be getting enough of that from Edge.

Sans is pliant beneath him, his grin easy and relaxed as Papyrus lays him out on the grand bed in Chara’s room. Papyrus ignores the curious and intense stares of their audience as he fixes a cuff to the upper ends of each of Sans’s femurs. The cuffs each possess a secondary loop that is used to envelop Sans’s wrists, forcing them to stay pinned to his leg bones, his arms limited to remaining straight at his sides. It’s an easy position to maintain for long periods, which suits both Sans’s lack of stamina and the fact that he’ll be there the longest.

“Comfy enough?” Papyrus asks, checking the tightness of the straps.

Sans wriggles a little, testing the bindings, but seems unperturbed by the restriction of his movements. “Yeah, it’s fine. Could probably take a nap like this.”

“You can try,” Papyrus offers with a wicked, knowing grin. He crooks a finger towards the far corner of the bed. “Come here, Red.”

There’s a short moment of hesitation before Red scoots out from under Edge’s casual, possessive grip. Edge’s expression darkens for a moment before he deliberately looks away. The battle-scarred skeleton seems less uptight these days about hiding whatever weird thing it is he has for Red. Papyrus supposes it could be considered an improvement; it’s not like Edge has ever been especially subtle, particularly not since the two of them shared that punishment, but he’s made it clear that he’ll be much more compliant as long as Red is around and that makes Papyrus’s job easier. He no longer has to worry about getting his fingers bitten off whenever Edge is in a contrary mood.

It’s easy to see Red’s presence is a good influence on Edge, but much harder to tell if the same is true in reverse. Red seems not to mind it much – he’s never made any move to try and avoid the attention Edge gives him – but he still seems jittery and wound-up most of the time, a state that’s only gotten worse with the latest addition to the harem. Papyrus still hasn’t found any way to reliably sooth him, and it fills him with a little pang of chagrin to see the look of blatant unease on Red’s face. He holds his arms out, wordlessly encouraging the smaller skeleton to climb into them.

“Good boy,” he approves when Red obeys and automatically tips his head back so Papyrus can bend to kiss him. Red’s responses are always so emphatic, and Papyrus swallows down the meek groan of Red’s appreciation as he conjures his tongue and sets about plundering the far recesses of Red’s mouth. Papyrus may not be able to calm him, but he definitely knows how to distract Red, and it’s not long before he can feel Red’s bones warming under his hands. Cracking open an eyesocket, he takes a note of Edge’s reaction. The other skeleton is looking away, a faint flush on his angular cheekbones, though Papyrus can’t tell if that’s from annoyance or interest.

When he finally pulls back, Red’s eye-lights are a little hazy, and his expression seems less tense. Papyrus beams at him in approval. “All right, Red. How about you encourage Sansy here to give us something to work with.”

Red gets to work immediately; he’s always readily obedient, regardless of his uncertainty. Sans spreads his femurs, letting Red nestle between them to lick diligently over the mound of his pubis. Papyrus watches Sans’s face, knowing Chara is observing closely through the camera as Sans’s mellow expression starts to tighten. His teeth grit together in a short fight for composure that lasts only a moment before Sans gives in and starts panting, eyes hooded and tongue swelling yearningly in his mouth. Cyan magic coalesces under Red’s attentions, an already hardening erection taking shape and springing forth from Sans’s pelvis. Papyrus allows Red only a single lick along the organ before pulling him up by the collar, leaving Sans to groan in disappointment and buck at the empty air.

“Still wanna take a nap?” Papyrus asks playfully.

Sans lets out an unintelligible grumble. “I get the feeling you’re gonna make me regret sayin’ that.”

Papyrus laughs in agreement, pulling out a padded strip of cloth. Red recognises it immediately, a fetching flush of crimson suffusing the planes of his skull as he lets Papyrus apply the blindfold. Red has improved markedly through training, but there’s still going to be an awful lot of bone rattling during tonight’s activities. Papyrus doesn’t actually think the blindfold will be enough this time to keep Red’s soul from appearing, but it should at least delay it for a while.

And there’s no denying the small skeleton looks good in it, his expression delightfully vulnerable as Papryus guides him into position. With some negotiation of the placement of bones, he gets Red situated across Sans’s pelvis, facing towards his legs. He hums warmly against the side of Red’s skull while long, elegant fingers gently coax the notch of Red’s pubic symphysis. His obscene cheer finally riles Red enough that irritation takes precedence over unease, and Red bares his sharp teeth in Papyrus’s direction.

“Ass,” Red accuses, unable to keep still under the delicate ministrations. He squirms, his movement jolting Sans beneath him, making them both groan as Red hisses and swears quietly, his own cock forming with a tingle of magic. The way he’s situated means it brushes against Sans’s, and Papyrus briefly indulges himself by wrapping his larger hand around the two twitching organs, stroking them slowly, pressing them together and enjoying the resulting gasps and twitches.

“Ooh, Papy,” Blue pipes up from where he’s been watching with unabashed delight. His pupils have taken the shape of bright stars, the way they do whenever he’s especially excited. “That looks like fun!”

“Don’t worry,” Papyrus assures him, grinning up at his long time companion. “You’ll get to have plenty of fun too.”

“Ugh,” Red groans, hips shifting as he tries to find a more comfortable position on Sans. Their bones aren’t shaped to slot easily together. “Chara’s type of fun, maybe.”

Sans snorts, and across the room, Edge makes a scoffing sound. Papyrus would remind them that Chara can actually hear them, even if their owner isn’t currently in the room, but he doesn’t really want to bring down the mood and he doesn’t think Chara really minds the candour all that much.

Red’s hands are cuffed and fixed to his ankles, leaving him enough slack to stay balanced on his knees, but with no means of reaching either his or Sans’s arousal. He’s mindlessly rubbing his cock against Sans’s with short, clumsy movements, making the other skeleton huff in objection until Papyrus gives him a firm smack across the tailbone to remind him to knock it off. They’re not ready to get started yet, and no one’s getting off before Papyrus is finished.

“Jerk,” Red mutters, but reluctantly subsides, breathing deeply to keep his urges in check. Sans is doing the same, trying not to move because each accidental jerk against each other makes it that much harder to stay still.

“Your turn, Edge,” Papyrus says, the words weighted with the insinuation of a challenge. He knows that the easiest way to circumvent Edge’s resistance is to turn it into a battle of wills or a slight against Edge’s courage. Predictably Edge scowls at him, but he slinks forward without argument, crossing the expanse of the bed with the prowling gait of a predator. Despite his attempt at aloofness, Edge makes the mistake of glancing across at Sans and Red, and Papyrus has learned to read him well enough that he can recognise the fleeting embarrassment that sweeps across his face. There are some ways in which Edge is still amusingly virginal, despite all the liberties Papyrus and Chara have taken with him. Still, normally Papyrus is only asked to play with one or two of the others at a time. They haven’t all had the chance to get to know each other in a more exposed setting.

With Edge’s discomfort in mind, Papyrus smirks and takes a firm hold of the other skeleton’s soul with his magic. Edge has only a moment for his sockets to widen in realisation before Papyrus forces him to faceplant hard into the mattress, pinning him down.

Edge struggles to lift himself, glaring and spitting curses. “Why must you-!? Augh, I wasn’t going to fight!”

“I dunno,” Papyrus says, casually straddling the lumbar span of Edge’s spine and pinning his flailing arms. “You sorta had that look in your eye. Besides, it’s better if I let you wear yourself out a bit beforehand. You’re such a sweet little fuck when you’re tired.”

“Fuck you!” Edge snarls, but he can’t seem to help himself. Instinct makes him jerk and struggle under Papyrus, though these days the fight is more like ritualised foreplay than any need to remind Edge of his place. He’d probably even submit willingly most of the time, but Papyrus kind of prefers to keep him riled and fighting.

“Yeah,” Papyrus breathes, threading a leather strap through the ring on the back of Edge’s collar. He grinds down on Edge, his own clothed pelvis rutting against the other’s naked bones. “There’s gonna be lots of that. You’re gonna show everyone how nicely you spread your legs these days, huh?”

Edge bucks wildly, nearly tipping Papyrus off, but he squeezes in with his femurs and pulls back on the collar until Edge is choking for unnecessary breath, his vertebrae poised to snap. He goes limp, conceding defeat, and Papyrus works swiftly to clinch Edge’s wrists together and lock them to the short strap from the collar. Unlike the restraints on Sans and Red, there’s no way Edge is going to be comfortable for any length of time, with his arms wrenched up behind his shoulder blades and the tether short enough to leave him strangling if he tries to pull on it at all. Edge seems to realise it, and finally some of the fight goes out of him as he focuses on conserving his strength.

“There you go,” Papyrus says with mocking approval, petting over Edge’s spine condescendingly. He’s let himself get a little too worked up over their struggle, and he has to discreetly adjust himself under his pants as he climbs off and flips Edge back over, admiring the other skeleton’s flustered expression of outrage.

Papyrus hooks his phalanges into the notch of Edge’s pelvic inlet and earns a shaky hiss of breath. “Okay, form your magic for me. You remember how, right?”

Edge’s sockets narrow furiously at him, but his jaw tightens in acquiescence as he takes a moment to concentrate. Papyrus doesn’t make it easy for him, idling letting his fingertips fondle the bones of Edge’s pelvis, and perhaps in defiance Edge ignores what Papyrus clearly intends for him to summon and forms a cock instead. Papyrus blinks down at it, torn between amusement and exasperation, though given that he was toying with Edge on purpose, he supposes he deserves that.

“Ha, ha. Nice try,” he says flatly to Edge’s expression of sneering victory. He grabs Edge’s shaft and pumps it once, harshly, his grip too tight for comfort. Edge yelps but bucks into his hand, his body trained to comply. There’s no satisfaction to be found, however, as Papyrus lets go before the motion can even complete. “No one gave you permission to have one of those. Form a pussy instead.”

Edge mutters something vile under his breath. It takes him nearly a minute to reshape his magic – a task always much more difficult if the existing organ is already aroused – but eventually he manages to summon the soft folds of a vulva the way Papyrus had taught him. Instinctively he moves his legs to shield it from Papyrus’s blatant staring only for Papyrus to grab him by the shinbones and pin them back towards his chest. Another set of cuffs that force his knees to stay bent and fixed to the curves of his ribs, leaving his pussy helplessly spread and open, unprotected.

“Me next!” Blue begs, bounding forward, and suddenly Papyrus finds himself with a lapful of eager, squirming skeleton. “Come on, Papy, you never let me play with the others.”

Blue pouts at him, and Papyrus can’t help but spend a long minute doing his best to kiss away that moping expression. His fingers tickle along Blue’s ribs playfully, earning adorable huffs of outraged laughter. Sans watches, his grin stretching in amusement. Red’s head is cocked trying to figure out what they’re doing, and eventually Papyrus shoos Blue off his lap and guides him over Edge’s chest instead.

“Okay, okay, your turn,” he concedes, feigning a long-suffering sigh. Blue mock-punches him with a small, ineffective fist. Ever since the harem had started expanding, Papyrus has done his best to keep Blue from having to be involved, but that may have been a miscalculation on his part. Blue’s always been receptive, and actually seems to enjoy participating. He’s even seemed slightly bereft not to have the same measure of Papyrus’s attention that he used to. Papyrus will have to make it up to him, somehow.

He makes a point of being extra attentive with Blue. There’s an array of hooks in the ceiling over the bed that have served a variety of purposes over the years. Papyrus has carefully positioned Blue beneath one, and with a flick of magic he guides a rope up to thread through the sturdy fixture before dangling back down to drape across Blue’s shoulders. The smaller skeleton stares at him with absolute trust, and the expression earns him another quick peck of teeth against his brow-bone before Papyrus gets to work.

The intricate harness he weaves for Blue is crafted with care so as not to put any undue pressure on his more fragile bones. The pattern of criss-crossed rope is made to distribute his weight whilst keeping him slightly suspended, arms drawn up over his head and the complicated twists and knots wound down across his ribs, spine and pelvis.

“So what do you want me to…oh!” Blue blinks in dazzled realisation as Papyrus gently nudges him backwards so that instead of straddling Edge’s chest, Blue’s legs are parted over the prone skeleton’s skull. The rope suspending him holds him about an inch too high for direct contact, but leaving Edge with a rather obscene view directly up Blue’s pelvic inlet.

“Show Edge your pretty pussy for me, yeah?” Papyrus asks, nuzzling at Blue’s collarbone. For all his eagerness, Blue still flushes brightly at the lewd order, but is quick to comply. His eagerness seems to translate directly to his magic since blue psudo-flesh solidifies to envelop him from hips to knees, his buttocks generously rounded and his thighs thick and squishy. Edge makes a spluttering sound as Blue’s sex forms right over his face, squirming a little underneath the smaller skeleton, and there must be some incidental contact because Blue jolts with a gasp and a high mewl of sound. He tries to grind his hips down, but the ropes make that a difficult endeavour.

“Hey now, no starting until everyone’s ready. You’ll make our newbie feel left out,” Papyrus chides, finally gesturing for the last member of their harem. “Come here, Pap.”

The other Papyrus has been watching all the proceedings with a wide-eyed expression that seems to fit somewhere between Blue’s restless yearning and Red’s shifting unease. He’s always earnestly obliging, though, and there’s only a moment of hesitation before Pap crawls over to him, hands wringing nervously.

Papyrus sidles up to him, cradling him affectionately. “Don’t worry, Pap. I know you’re new, but you’re gonna do just fine.”

He’s also blushing, the orange of his magic a few shades darker than Papyrus’s own. He seems to be trying to take the whole scene in without actually looking at any of it directly. “I’m really not very…experienced in these matters.”

“I know. It’s fine. I’ll be doing most of the work for you. Come here.” He positions himself behind the other Papyrus, his own jaw hooked over Pap’s shoulder, guiding him the way one would a life-sized marionette with careful nudges against his back and limbs.

He positions Pap between Edge’s legs, lining them up pelvis to pelvis. Pap begins to whine in anticipation, his hips already making small, twitching motions as he stares down at the swollen, spread lips of Edge’s pussy. It’s quite an enticing sight, and Papyrus grinds himself against his namesake’s tailbone, imagining the carnal grind of bodies clashing together and the delightful sounds Edge will make muffled as he is by Blue’s sex pressed against his face.

For all the trouble Chara has made him go through, this does promise to be a lot of fun.

He lightly grazes his fingers across Pap’s pubic mound. “Okay. Magic time, bro.”

Pap shudders against him. “Ah…did you want my…or the other…?”

Papyrus considers. “Summon your usual one. That should be fine.”

“Oo-okay!” Pap goes tense, concentrating, and Papyrus leans over him to watch in interest as the other’s curious organ gently uncurls. One day he’ll ask why this is the shape Pap’s most comfortable with, but even though it’s not in the more traditional form, he’s explored it thoroughly enough to know it works just as well as any other summoned cock. It’s much more prehensile, though, its stout base and tapered tip operating more like a tongue than a phallus. It quests forward eagerly, easily finding the moist crease between Edge’s femurs and slowly gliding against him. Edge makes a high, startled sound, unable to see what’s touching him, but as unfamiliar as the slippery organ might be, his pussy definitely displays its interest. Papyrus can see his entrance clenching, the magic eager to serve its purpose.

“Now move in just a little bit closer–” In response to the command Pap whimpers, inching forwards. He doesn’t have much conscious control over his magic, and immediately the quivering appendage dives forward and tries to bury itself in Edge, making him jerk with a cry that has Blue moaning dazedly, his hips grinding back down on Edge in return. “–okay, stop there.”

Pap is breathing hard, bright orange magic dusting over his high cheekbones as he fights to comply. “B-but I…I’m not close enough to-?”

“To fill him up properly?” Papyrus finishes with a smirk, glancing down. Only the top third of Pap can reach far enough to try and enter Edge’s body. The rest of the rippling organ strains to bridge the gap, but can’t complete their joining without moving forward. “Yeah, I know. Just bear with it for a bit, okay?”

Pap nods, swallowing down small noises of need and frustration. It’s nice to deal with someone more obedient for a change, but even so, Papyrus doesn’t quite trust Pap to be able to hold back without a little extra assurance. He has a loose length of soft rope that he hastily binds into a kind of harness over Pap’s pelvis, tying it off at the small of his back with a long tail of slack that he then fixes to the closest bedpost to keep him from thrusting forward.

“Nice work,” Chara purrs in his ear as Papyrus surveys his handiwork, satisfied that every member of the harem is tied and positioned in such a way that there’s no easy way to work themselves up to climax on their own. Edge can’t seem to stop fidgeting, his hips rocking blindly in blatant frustration, but no amount of movement will allow Pap to enter him any further and the thin tip of his organ isn’t enough to provide satisfaction. Blue’s desperately trying to be considerate of Edge but there’s already a sluice of fluids dripping down his legs and even more smeared over what can be seen of Edge’s face. Red is starting to sweat copiously, his breathing laboured from the effort of holding still. Sans’s head is turned to press against the sheets, perhaps to try and block out all the carnal, squelching sounds of arousal-slicked magic and the tremulous rattling of bones knocking together. His position puts him directly facing Pap’s still writhing organ, however, and from the look of perturbed fascination on his face, Sans isn’t having much success keeping his calm.

“Now for the real fun,” Chara says with a sigh of almost contentment as they settle in wherever they are, likely watching the spectacle from the dozen different camera feeds set up across the bedroom.

“Everyone ready to get started?” Papyrus asks, though it’s a completely irrelevant question. It doesn’t matter if they aren’t. Orders are orders.

“What the fuck,” Red grumbles unevenly, twisting back and forth, likely feeling even more unprepared from having been blindfolded the whole time and only able to guess at what might be going on around him. “What are you even gonna do?”

Papyrus closes his own eyes, calling up his magic. Chara had loosened some of the restrictions on the collar just for this, and he feels an almost overwhelming rush as he suddenly finds himself with access to far more of his natural powers than he’s used to. He grits his teeth, refusing to get distracted, and called forth the shape of the spell Chara had insisted he learn. From the surface of the mattress, tall tendrils of orange suddenly sprout like vigorous vines from the pale plane of the sheets. There are dozens of them, long, prehensile and surprisingly strong despite their delicate looking shape, curling around the skeletons with obvious intent.

“Oh hell,” Sans breathes softly, eye-sockets wide, and perhaps even a little afraid for a change.

“What?” Red snaps, jerking violently, head whipping back and forth. He can’t see, but undoubtedly he can feel the electric taste of magic in the air.

“Papy,” Blue whines, sounding more wanton than upset. He’s the only one who’s seen Papyrus use these before, and already knows their intention. Papyrus has perfected his control enough to know he’ll be able to keep them in check without risking Blue’s fragility. They’re not made to harm; only to pleasure.

Closing his eyes, he lets his intention take shape along with the magic, and silently orders his new army of magical limbs to seek out every unoccupied orifice, every uncovered bone and heated mound or shaft of sex and lay complete and thorough claim to it.

Magic surges as the tendrils close in as one. There’s a startled upheaval through the mattress, yelps and gasps intermingling as contact is made. Edge’s spine arches violently, his shout of protest muffled in the generous flesh of Blue’s thighs as two tendrils lay claim to both his ischium, forcing their pliant forms through the tight rings of bone. Though Papyrus was careful not to overload them with too many nerve endings, the pleasant feeling of constriction and friction makes him groan. Instinctively, he tweaks the spell so that the tendrils begin oozing an oily condensation of magic to help slick their passage. Unfortunately, with the way the spell is linked, all the other tendrils immediately follow suit, and the thick secretion immediately splatters the sheets and seeps into the mattress. Papyrus isn’t sure there’ll be any salvaging the bed after he’s finished, but he can’t honestly bring himself to care.

Blue does, though, and his face twists in pained disgust as he surveys the growing mess. “Papyyyy-ah!”

A very delicate tendril winds its way up the back of his sacrum and curls thickly around the length of Blue’s spine exposed between his rib-cage and his pelvis. Grinning playfully, Papyrus lets himself lean forward, using another set of appendages to keep himself balanced as he nuzzles against Blue’s cheek.

“What’s the matter, bro? Not a fan of sticky situations?”

“Ugh!” Blue protests, trying to sound serious in his disapproval, but there’s more than a hint of a smile curling the corners of his mouth as he turns his face to press against Papyrus’s in a needy kiss. Blue’s hips are grinding down mindlessly on Edge’s face – he’s probably too distracted to even realise he’s doing it – and Papyrus cants his gaze downward with his socket open wide so Chara can watch the way Edge’s chest and shoulders jerk and heave below them.

He can hear the tinkling of their laughter echoing softly inside his skull, even as they complain, “Come on, stop kissing already. I want a better view.”

With a scoffing sigh at their impatience, Papyrus pulls back, sending another pulse of magic through the spell. It doesn’t need much of his attention to direct and maintain; most of it is tied directly to his instincts and subconscious, answering to his intent rather than his direct commands. It almost amuses him to find that his instinct is apparently to deny Edge any proper satisfaction, because though the holes of his ischium are being eagerly penetrated, his pussy is getting nothing more than the occasional teasing lick of fleeting contact. Meanwhile, a larger and more aggressive tendril has wound itself completely around the other Pap’s tapered member and is wringing it generously in a slick coil of heat.

“Hnnnyaah,” Pap whines, his jaw shamelessly ajar and gulping air as he fights the rope that keeps his hips from bucking. Immediately more tentacles surge forward to curl against his throat and cheekbones, stroking and petting in sloppy, encouraging motions. A tight squeeze against his sex makes him jerk mindlessly, his untrained and oversensitive body quickly reaching its peak with a tight cry and a gush of darker orange magic mixing with Papyrus’s more honeyed tone.

“Don’t let him rest,” Chara says, and Papyrus’s magic instantly moves to obey, clinging tightly to Pap’s member so it can’t hope to retreat or disperse and starting up a brutal rhythm once again. The coddling tendrils grip more firmly, hooking into the other monster’s collar and forcing him to bend into a more supplicating position so other appendages can access his upraised tailbone. A squawk of discomfort turns into a moan, and it takes only moments for Pap’s sockets to go empty with pleasure once again.

Satisfied, Papyrus turns to check on Sans and Red. The latter is teetering wildly, trying to pull away from the tendrils only for them to keep nudging him back into place. An uncountable number of them have made a complex weave to keep both small skeletons bound together at the pelvis, and one enterprising appendage has wound around both their cocks, giving them a shared, slippery pocket to rock against. The look on Red’s face is one of conflicted distress, his anxiety keeping him from losing himself to the overwhelming contact like Pap has.

“Make Red cry,” Chara orders tightly, their breath coming slightly faster than normal. They must be enjoying themselves.

He’s worked with Red long enough to know what the smaller skeleton does and doesn’t like. Two tendrils begin crawling towards Red’s rib cage, prodding invasively over his scars. One twines itself around a floating rib, wiggling it cruelly against the spine. The second pushes in hard into one of the intercostal spaces, and though it’s malleable enough to contort its shape until it fits, the pressure is clearly unpleasant.

He’s not trying to cause Red much pain; he doesn’t need to. The careless crawling over his ribs is one that ignites some awful memory in him, and he jerks in panic only to find more tendrils winding through his back, holding him in place.

“W-wait! Don’t, ple-hurk!”

A thick appendage forces its way down his throat, choking off his protest. He doesn’t need panic to work its way through the rest of the harem, and after a moment of seizing and struggling Red comes to the inevitable realisation that this is going to happen regardless of how much he won’t enjoy it. It’s almost fascinating how abruptly the fight goes out of him, leaving him limp in the cradle of tentacles now holding him up as new tendrils begin moving in to explore the interior of his rib cage. A soft spark ignites as his soul flares in distress – even though it’s not bony hands touching him, his soul trauma is clearly tied to having his chest cavity invaded. Normally Papyrus would stay clear of it, but caught up in the rush of his own power, it’s simply the easiest way to obey Chara’s order. He watches Red’s face, making sure to focus on how crimson fluid blots the blindfold before saturation forces it to trickle down Red’s cheeks.

Sans is the only one in a position to really watch it happening, and even though his face is flushed and sweating with arousal, he shoots a sharp glare in Papyrus’s direction in blatant disapproval. Papyrus forces down a brief swell of shame. Sure, it was the easiest way to obey, but it wasn’t the only one. He could have been gentler, and even the complexity of the spell demanding his attention isn’t quite enough to excuse him.

Chara, though, seems to take exception to Sans’s look. “Looks like Sans doesn’t want to enjoy himself. He can wait until the end.”

Papyrus hates that some small part of him gets a spiteful enjoyment from watching his tendrils forcing their way into Sans’s narrowed eye-sockets. The smaller skeleton startles, head jerking back, trying to dislodge the invaders onto to find his skull suddenly full of squirming, roiling appendages. More work their way up into his pelvis, not to pleasure him, but simply to stuff him full and keep him immobile and unable to find any release. Just to ensure it, he directs a particularly slender tendril to bind tightly at the base of Sans’s cock, to hold back his climax until Chara permits it.

Red, though, is under no such restriction, and even though his tears Papyrus can see the way his body shudders unwillingly towards completion. His hips snap forward with careless force, and Papyrus can see the way Sans grimaces in frustrated denial as Red’s ejaculate splurts inside the imprisoning tentacle and coats Sans’s cock in taunting release.

“Damn,” Papyrus murmurs softly, feeling the distant sensation of that wet heat through his own magic. Thoughtlessly, his own cock has formed at his pelvis, and obligingly a tentacle has separated from the pack to stroke along his length. It only serves to tease him to further hardness, and with all the slick, thrilling feedback through his magic, he’s in no frame of mind to be patient. Urgent need drives him to straddle Edge’s chest and yank Blue forward by the femurs.

“P-Papy, what-ahh!?”

Normally he’s more careful with Blue. He goes slow and gently and lovingly into the smaller, more fragile skeleton, but the space between Blue’s legs is already hot and wet from Edge’s saliva and Blue’s own desperate fluids. Papyrus doesn’t spare any consideration for the way Edge is still trapped beneath them; he thrusts right in, his cock buried in the tight, clenching heat of Blue’s pussy.

The wail Blue makes is one of unadulterated ecstasy, which only drives Papyrus to draw back and thrust in again, driven by the urge to make him repeat that captivating noise. For once, control and restraint are nothing but dim, unreachable concepts as he fucks Blue recklessly, barely even noticing as the other skeleton comes once, twice, and keeps right on keening encouragements against Papyrus’s skull.

“Hey! Numbskull! Open your eyes, damnit, I can’t see!”

He’s faintly aware of Chara’s complaints, but even those seem unimportant compared to the relentless pursuit of his own orgasm. Besides, it’s not as though Chara’s completely blind; they have innumerable cameras set up to admire the scene from multiple angles. No doubt they’re recording it, too, for later enjoyment.

“Please, Papy, please, more-!” Blue babbles, his body twitching in furtive motions, trying to bring himself closer to Papyrus, but the rope harness makes things difficult. The angle is a difficult one, and Papyrus teeters on the brink of impatience, not quite able to find his satisfaction until suddenly there’s a second intrusion fighting for space in Blue’s pussy that suddenly makes everything too tight and too much. For a wild moment he thinks it must be one of his own tendrils responding unconsciously to his desire, but there’s none of the expected stimulus from his magic and he realises it must be Edge’s tongue licking along his length and forcing its way into Blue’s passage alongside him. He’s pretty sure he feels the faint prick of Edge’s teeth as well before he comes with a quavering groan, and all the tentacles tighten and shudder along with him.

The intensification of his magic through his climax almost sparks a second orgasm. For a moment he’s drowning in overwhelming sensation, the slippery slide of soft tendrils over bone, squeezing, curling, thrusting, claiming…With a shuddering breath he forces himself to calm down, slowly easing out of Blue and settling back to rest on Edge’s sternum.

All the vigorous movement has displaced Edge so he’s no longer directly between Blue’s thighs, and Papyrus can see the way honey and azure magic have smeared along his cheekbones and teeth. Edge is panting hard, and blinking in a way that suggests more than a little of the mess has ended up in his eye-sockets. Feeling a brief flush of satisfaction, Papyrus scoots backwards and bends to lick up the sour-sweet fluids.

Edge huffs in irritation, attempting to turn his face away only for a tendril to forcibly push him back. He reluctantly lets Papyrus’s tongue lave his chin and jaw before coaxing his teeth to part into an rough, electrically charged kiss. Edge’s mouth doesn’t mold as pliantly to his as Blue’s did, but there’s an exciting element to navigating those sharp teeth and hearing the low, unwilling groans issuing from the back of Edge’s throat.

Papyrus is already hard again, his bones burning from the way Edge is squirming beneath him. Glancing back, he catches Pap’s wide, eager sockets and easily comes to a decision. All he has to do is shuffle further back and situate himself between Edge’s bound femurs and Pap’s straining pelvis.

“Oh, thank you!” Pap breathes emphatically, nuzzling against the back of Papyrus’s neck in appreciation as the tip of his tapered cock manages to untangle itself from a tentacle to begin questing around the end of Papyrus’s tailbone. His stamina really is something incredible, Papyrus reflects. His knees and shins are practically submerged in Papyrus’s release, the sheer volume of it too much for the mattress to absorb, but clearly he’s still eager to continue. The entrance Papyrus summons is rushed and almost rudimentary, but he doubts he can convince Pap to be more patient for him.

He’s not feeling particularly patient himself, especially not with Edge’s dripping pussy now spread invitingly before him. He only spares a moment to slick himself in the soft folds of Edge’s false flesh, adding smears of crimson to the colourful assortment of fluids on his cock, before grabbing Edge by the hips and pulling him fiercely onto his cock.

Almost immediately he feels himself being penetrated from behind, and the new surge of pressure through his pelvis forces a ragged cry from his throat. Edge works harder to keep his own noises stifled, but Papyrus can tell he’s just as overcome from being equally jolted by Pap’s forceful thrust. Unfortunately, between the rope and the tendrils, Pap’s forward motions are restricted, leaving Papyrus to have to set his own pace between the two other skeletons.

But what a magnificent pace it is, even if he’s working harder than he usually likes. Sweat is clinging uncomfortably to his bones and there’s a faint ache from his soul from all the magic he’s been expending, but he can’t imagine stopping himself from driving hard into Edge’s pussy before falling back onto Pap’s writhing member. He swears he can feel Pap’s magic growing larger and longer, making up for its lack of rigidity with greater flexibility as it plunges deeply into his magic, making it stretch and burn in a way that’s unspeakably satisfying. The tendrils still looped through Edge’s ischium are now perfectly situated for holding him in place and adding even more force to each clash of their bodies by jerking Edge back to meet every thrust.

“Come, Papyrus.”

He isn’t expecting it, but the order crashes through him with a violent shock of bliss that has him climaxing again into Edge’s pussy. He can feel the heat and force of his release filling Edge up, increasing the pressure on their joining until Edge is writhing and gasping and then coming himself with a breath-taking constriction of his inner muscles around Papyrus’s cock.

Chara’s musical laughter rings in his ears. “Aww, you can do that on command? That’s cute.”

Brat, Papyrus thinks, but doesn’t say it. Though Chara could hear him through the microphones, the only thing Papyrus would be conveying is how ragged and exhausted his voice is. Even as the high of orgasm rocks him with pleasant, gentle aftershocks he can feel that he’s reaching his limit.

He carefully extracts himself from Edge, to the sounds of Pap’s broken, needy moans.

“N-no, please, just a little more, I’m not quite-!” Pap trails off, bucking pitifully against the ropes holding him in place. Papyrus considers using the tentacles to finish him off but reconsiders, catching sight of Red and Sans in his peripheral vision. Thankfully, his magic is still responsive enough to untangle the two smaller skeletons and pull Sans closer. Sans heaves in relief as the knot of tangled appendages in his skull finally withdraw, although he looks dazed and vulnerable as Papyrus insinuates him into the small space between Edge and Pap.

“Here,” he tells Pap, guiding Sans’s femurs to spread and delving his own fingers into the empty space in Sans’s pelvic inlet. There’s a soft whine, Sans’s eye-lights sparking with blue and yellow before his magic tentatively coils into a narrow passage through his pelvis. Papyrus lingers only long enough to let his fingers tease the inside of the newly conjured flesh, enticing it to start lubricating before he removes his hand to let Pap take over with a loud groan of relief.

Pap’s member is still engorged, larger than it should have been, and there’s a fascinating awe in watching it try to fit itself into Sans’s much more compact pelvis. Sans’s expression contorts, incoherent noises slipping through his teeth as his magic is forced to stretch up past his sacrum, filling the space where his stomach would have been as he’s filled well past the point of comfort. The way he gasps suggests it’s painful, though not harmful, and certainly not enough to dim the vibrant flush of arousal that’s suffusing all the joints between his bones and glowing across his face. Pap doesn’t thrust so much as he lets his member flex and rub its way through Sans with powerful, supple movements, and the strange undulations must work because it’s not long before Sans’s eye-lights are rolling back, drool seeping unabashedly from the corners of his mouth as his body twitches in pleasure.

A soft, hurt sound draws Papyrus’s attention away before he can witness the inevitable climax, and he silently curses himself for forgetting about Red. The small skeleton is curled up as much as he’s able to, knees drawn tight to his chest, fingers clenching mindlessly at the tethers on his cuffs. He flinches when a cluster of tentacles thread through his bones, tugging him inexorably into Papyrus’s lap.

“Hnn, no more,” Red begs, but his cock hasn’t dissipated and his soul is shining brightly through his ribs. He doesn’t struggle, even when the rasping contact of Papyrus’s naked phalanges over his sternum clearly makes him uncomfortable.

He doesn’t want to touch Red’s soul directly, so instead he exerts just the faintest amount of blue magic to envelop it, exerting finely tuned pressure the way a magnet would on a piece of metal. Red gasps, his soul swelling briefly, and loose fingers curling around his cock is all the encouragement he needs for his soul to burst and overflow with spent magic. It gushes out in a silvery stream of pure fluid, streaking the mattress further and splattering on Edge’s face which is turned to watch them both with narrowed, suspicious eyes.

“Good boy,” Papyrus murmurs to Red, though it’s pointless since the smaller skeleton has already passed out. Papyrus sighs and sets him down against Edge’s side, taking a moment to ensure all his tendrils have released their captives and withdrawn before dispelling them with sharp gasp.

“Fuck,” he curses as a wave of exhaustion crushes him with startling suddenness. His vision skews, and he has to lie down swiftly to stave off the swooning rush of dizziness.

“You actually worked hard for a change,” Chara observes cheerfully, sounding satisfied. “I guess I can send someone to help you clean up.”

“Ugh,” Papyrus agrees emphatically, although he feels faintly sorry for whoever is going to be tasked with cleaning up the obscene mess they’ve made of Chara’s mattress. From what he can hear, Pap isn’t yet finished despite Sans’s pitiful attempts to protest, and Blue is starting to complain about his restraints while Edge radiates a palpable concern for Red’s lack of consciousness.

Fuck it. He’s tired. They can all wait for five minutes while he gathers himself for dealing with the aftermath of Chara’s overbearing demands.


End file.
